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Charlotte, North Carolina
March 27, 2005
We had a rather large group with us, including our friend Tine and her family, one of my pals Lisa and her hubby, and one of my clients Faye and her husband Donnie. We made advanced reservations and got right on in when we arrived. The restaurant offers an extensive wine list and has a full-service bar. We do not drink, but several of our party did and said everything was excellent.
Since there was a large group, we ordered several appetizers and spilt them. Coconut shrimp was passed around. Several of us shared the house salad, which is prepared and tossed right at your table. It comes with greens, scallions, bacon bits, Parmesan cheese, homemade herbed croutons, and a thick, creamy homemade Cesar salad dressing.
Since you are right on the waterfront, seafood makes up most of the menu, especially shrimp (in case the name didn’t clue you in). The non-seafood menu is small and limited to chicken and steak. I don’t eat seafood and went with the Chicken Sautee Sec. This mouthwatering double-breasted chicken comes in a scrumptious rosemary-chardonnay sauce with green onions and mushrooms and plated with a rice pilaf. It was divine and more than I could eat. John went with the shrimp-stuffed Savannah, which offers eight fantail shrimp baked and filled with devil crab and lemon butter served on a bed of baked rice.
If you have room for dessert, try the very impressive bananas foster flame. It consists of bananas and a rum sauce, which is flambéed at your table and poured over vanilla-bean ice cream. I didn’t have room, but Suzanne and Tine had it and let me sample it. Oh, wow! Yummy and impressive.
The building does have a resident ghost, Joe, who died on the stairs in August of 1977. He seems harmless, and the employees peacefully coexist with Joe. To read more about Joe and for more information on the restaurant, go to www.theshrimpfactory.com. They do take reservations and I would suggest them.
From journal Savannah, a true Southern Belle
Blacksburg, South Carolina
March 1, 2005
From journal The City Too Beautiful to Destroy